


Black

by KuraiTsuky



Series: All the Colors in the Universe [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), F/M, Missy Dies, Post-Episode: s10e12 The Doctor Falls, The Doctor doesn't cope very well, Twelve doesn't regenerate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 01:28:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiTsuky/pseuds/KuraiTsuky
Summary: Without Missy to show him the Dark, the Doctor has to provide it for himself. Twelve survives the Mondas ship without regenerating, and burns the universe for taking Missy from him.





	Black

**Author's Note:**

> This is me dealing with the finale, yes, I'm still not over it, probably never will.  
> First fic in this fandom, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is always apreciated. 
> 
> Happy Day of the Dead, or whatever it's said on the day of the dead.

When he wakes up amongst the ashes, his first thought is for her. She must be long gone by now with her younger self, but that doesn’t stop the pang of worry that splits his hearts. He thought he’d reached her this time around that, they could truly be friends. When he gets out of there, he lasts the whole of five minutes before looking for her again. He looks and he looks all over the universe but the only glimpses he manages to catch of her are in his past and he can’t truly reach them.

As the weeks, months go by; the one option he doesn’t dare think about seems likelier and likelier. He reaches out with his mind but silence is his only answer. Furious and at the end of his wits, the Doctor goes back to the mondasian ship, landing a few minutes after he left.

He finds her then, in the forest.

Seeing is believing, the humans say, but he can’t quite believe his eyes. She’s lying there, as if asleep, except everything is wrong, her eyes are opened, lost, her expression marmoreal. She’s not breathing, and the golden light that should encase her is nowhere to be seen.

The Doctor falls on his knees by her side, his hands trembling when they land on her skin. Cold, cold, cold, is the only clear thought he has, cold and wrong because they were supposed to be together this time, this was supposed to be their second chance and now he’s well and truly alone. He holds her in his arms and cries breathing in the smell of death, blood and flowers that is so her and also a tiny hint of laser.

He knows what that means, and it only makes him rage all the more, that he can’t even avenge her. He also knows that for this disaster to happen she must have wanted to stand by him. And that is the thing that hurts more than any other. She was his again, for one brief moment, they were Theta and Koshei again and now their friendship is just ashes on the ground. The Doctor carries her to the TARDIS, she deserves a proper funeral, he owes her that much at least.

It’s a lie, he owes her so, so much more, but this is the only thing he can give her. He takes the brooch and puts it in his pocket just as the flames catch on her purple frock and burn away his one true friend. Eternal until this moment.

He locks himself away on his TARDIS then, guilt and despair fighting for dominance in him and crippling him down. The Doctor can’t help but wonder whether she’d be alive today if he hadn’t insisted in holding her with the chains of his morality, if he hadn’t tried to change her. He wrecks the control room minding only that book she’d been reading after making the repairs. He barricades himself on the vault with the piano he doesn’t quite know how to play and sleeps between sheets that still smell of her.

He dreams of her, because of course he does, and wakes up when something pricks his side. It’s her brooch. The Doctor stays there, sitting defeated at her bed, for a while, looking at the face engraved in it. It’d been a good likeness, he thinks, but he can’t quite remember, it sure looks like Missy’s profile though. He has to rest it on the mattress not to throw it away. Not even rage can fill that hole in his chest where his hearts used to be.

The Doctor forces himself to go out into the universe but everything is grey and boring. It doesn’t take long to realize why. A Universe without his Mistress scarcely bears thinking about, so he burns it to pieces.

He starts with Skaro, but he knows he’ll end with Gallifrey. Planet after planet falls before his pain, is not even rage, not really. He doesn’t feel much when he does it, killing billions doesn’t amount to anything in his head. Not even a distraction because when he lights the fires, when he plots the deaths of millions, when he turns into everything he once hated and vowed to stop, he can only think of how she’ll never see any of this again. He’s lost so many times and this is the only loss he doesn’t know how to come back from.

He once wondered what he’d be without her and this is what’s left of him.


End file.
